Firefly Mk2 point 3: Operation Tauri
by BDM
Summary: The Serenity returns to 34 Tauri, but for Rachel Tam the ship's homecoming will lead her to her family's darkest secret.
1. First Impressions

**FIREFLY MkII: OPERATION TAURI**

**First Impressions**

"You've had this coming a long time, mate," the griffin-like gargoyle known as Alistair sneered.

"I'm not beaten yet, muchacho," the human mercenary José Lovano retorted, in spite of the fact that he was sweating profusely.

The game was called Shufflepuck. It was basically another version of glide hockey, except the table was narrower. Most glide hockey games also didn't administer an electric shock to the player when their opponent scored a point. Now a Shufflepuck table was installed in the common room on the Firefly-class transport ship _Serenity_, after the crew had traded for it on a seedy 'pit-stop' planet. The temptation to get some extra entertainment on board the ship was too great, as the crew had often complained about the lack of things to do during downtime.

Alan Tyler, the mutant Captain of the ship, was now watching the game, hardly daring to believe the endurance of his First Mate and gunner. Beside him were Rachel Tam, the young engineer, and Bishop, the android pilot. All of them had placed bets on how long the game would last; even Bishop, who the others had come to regard as a workaholic, was taking time out from piloting the ship to observe the game. He claimed that he was studying the limits of human endurance, but Alan suspected that he wanted to place a bet.

"How long as it been now?" Alan asked, his voice full of disbelief.

"Sixteen minutes," Bishop replied. "They have played twenty-seven rounds, and yet they show no signs of stopping."

"What's the score?" Alan asked.

"Twenty-seven-nil to Alistair, I think," Rachel chimed in. "I think I heard José say he didn't want to stop until he'd scored a point, among other, more threatening things." They watched as another round started. Both Alistair's and José's hands were little more than blurs as they whipped the paddles around the table, sending the puck ricocheting all over the place at blinding speed. The faces of both competitors were locked in concentration, and the game would likely have kept going for a lot longer had a sudden beeping sound not come from Bishop's commlink. This had the effect of throwing off José's concentration, sending the puck into his goal again. He yelped as a sudden electric shock was sent through him again. He threw down his paddle and pointed angrily at Alistair.

"¡Beza mi culo, pendejo!" he shouted. He marched over to one of the armchairs and sat himself down, his arms folded and looking very cross. Alan sighed, looking over at Rachel.

"I guess I owe you fifty credits then," he said. "I didn't expect them to last this long." From his chair, José gave a loud derisive snort. He felt embarrassed enough that he had lost to Alistair, and he was annoyed that the rest of the crew were placing bets on him. He knew they would never let him forget this for several days. Bishop, meanwhile, was examining his commlink.

"I've just received a message from the _Holy Justice_," Bishop said. "Shipmaster Mitsu wants to see us."

Alan sighed. "So much for the downtime while Cujo's away," he said. "Any particular reason he wants us?"

"He won't say here," Bishop replied. "He would rather he gave our briefing to us in-person."

"That's hardly a surprise," Alistair shrugged. "I think Mitsu's lot are the only ones we've not met. I swear he spends more time on survey runs than he does at the fleet. The guy's addicted to his work."

"Well, we might as well go and see what he wants," Alan said. "Bishop, dock with the _Holy Justice_. See if they have a spare hangar."

"Roger, Captain," Bishop said, immediately making his way to the flight deck.

"The rest of us," Alan said, "will meet in the cargo bay."

None of the crew was enthusiastic that their leisure time had been interrupted, but they assembled in the cargo bay anyway. A few minutes later the _Serenity_ was gliding smoothly into the hangar of the Destroyer-class ship, and gently set down on the glowing lavender floor. Once the ship had stopped moving Bishop rejoined the others in the cargo bay and began to lower the large ramp leading out into the hangar. Looking around him, Alan saw that his crew had tried to prepare themselves for visitors. Alistair had tried to make his dark blue leather armour look more presentable, while Rachel had made some attempt to tidy her unruly brown hair. José, as usual, prepared for Sangheili visitors on board the ship by contorting his expression into an ugly scowl.

Seconds later the large airlock doors slid open, revealing the interior of the hangar. Several Sangheili warriors were standing guard outside the ship. Alan was used to the sight of them by now, though he had to admit that he was rather nervous about meeting Mitsu. He had already met the other Shipmasters in the fleet (aside, obviously, from Telek) and was able to get a good measure of their character, but the _Holy Justice_'s Shipmaster was still an unknown quantity.

When Alan actually saw Mitsu, his nervousness almost gave way to laughter. For Mitsu 'Kimam, as it turned out, was the shortest Sangheili Alan had seen so far. He was a good head shorter than the two guards who entered the ship with him, making him not much taller than Alan who was around six and a half feet tall himself. Alan also guessed that, like Cujo, he was a Zealot, judging from the golden harness he was wearing.

Mitsu, meanwhile, was peering around the curved panelled walls of the cargo bay and into the faces of the five crew members. Like most of the other Sangheili, he found it hard to believe that this rag-tag skeleton crew had had so many successes in this run-down junker of a ship. It may have been enhanced with Sangheili slip-space technology, but he still felt that it looked more likely to tear apart upon the next re-entry through a planet's atmosphere. He also felt that this tiny cargo carrier stuck out like a sore thumb next to the sleek Sangheili flagships elsewhere in the Fleet Shadow of Fury; if he had had his way he would have treated it as a shuttle vessel for one of the flagships as opposed to a separate entity. He kept these thoughts to himself; Cujo clearly trusted the Shipmaster of this vessel, and he knew that he would have to respect Cujo's wishes. He approached Alan and gave him a courteous salute which Alan returned.

"Shipmaster Tyler," he said, "we meet at last." 

"Shipmaster Mitsu," Alan replied. "Welcome aboard the _Serenity_." Something of what Mitsu was thinking must have shown on his face, for Alan added, "She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts." Rachel leaned over slightly, nodding as if to say "You tell 'em!".

"Appearances can be very deceptive indeed," Mitsu nodded. "For instance, I would never have believed that humans could be so resilient when I first clapped eyes on them, yet they put up a very strong fight back in the days of the war. That taught me a few harsh lessons."

"We're full of surprises, split-face," José spat. Alan couldn't help but feel that the impulsive gunner had a point though; Mitsu has sounded almost wistful, as if the memories of the war were particularly fond for him. The eyes of the Sangheili guards narrowed and they snarled, their mandibles quivering as José returned a defiant glare. The gunner had never forgiven the Sangheili for their involvement in the war. Alan knew this, and his bad attitude around their comrades in the fleet was a source of constant irritation.

Mitsu, however, remained eerily calm. He approached José with his arms behind his back and leaned in very closely, his face almost touching José's. An odd sort of smirk seemed to appear on his mandibles.

"Ah, yes," Mitsu said in a loud whisper. "Cujo did tell me about you, José Lovano. You were a guest in the brig on the _Divine Journey_ only last week, if his account is correct." Suddenly, without warning, he grabbed the front of José's vest with both hands and lifted him about a foot off the floor. For his size, Mitsu was an incredibly strong Sangheili. José struggled fruitlessly against the Shipmaster's iron grip.

"Rest assured," Mitsu continued, his tone becoming icier, "that had you been one of my crew, I would not have wasted a cell. I would have cut that spiteful tongue out of your head before you had time to scream."

Perhaps noticing the scandalised look on Alan's face, he proceeded to drop José onto the metallic floor. The human grunted in pain and tried to pick himself up, a murderous look on his face. His fist was clenched and it looked like he was about to spring at Mitsu there and then, but Alistair grabbed his arm and held it firmly in his claw.

"Just get your gear ready," the gargoyle said quietly. "The last thing we need is another war with these guys right on their doorstep."

José didn't say anything. He seemed to silently agree with Alistair, however, as he picked himself up and made his way back up the gantries to the crew cabins, throwing one last spiteful look at Mitsu. Alan, meanwhile, felt that he had to say something; he knew that Mitsu had been completely out of order, doing that to his crewman, regardless of how much he deserved it.

"That wasn't called for, Shipmaster," he said firmly. "While you're on my ship, it's my rules. I deal with José's outbursts myself."

"With all due respect, Shipmaster," Mitsu said firmly, "most in the fleet agree that an attitude adjustment for your crewman is long overdue. I know it was not my place to discipline him on your ship, and for that I'm sorry, but I meant what I said. Had he been serving under my command, he would not go unpunished for such insolence." He gave a deep, rumbling sigh.

"He had a point though, as cock-eyed as it was in coming out," Alistair then said, his arms folded. "You sounded like you almost enjoyed the war."

"You noticed that, did you?" Mitsu said, sounding embarrassed. "It's true that I miss the thrill of battle. I was a Special Operations warrior before I met Telek and joined his fleet. I had been trained and conditioned to hate humans..." He looked back towards where José had disappeared with a scornful expression. "Telek forced me to see some hard truths, and Shipmaster Jimenez and his crew have proven their worth countless times, but when I see characters like that..." He snarled and tensed his muscles, but eventually seemed to decide that he couldn't find an appropriate word for José. "Well, let's just say that old habits die hard. Commanding a flagship just isn't the same as a battle on the ground."

"So why'd you call us here then?" Alan asked. "Aside from to have a go at my associate."

"Well," Mitsu said, becoming more business-like. "I decided that I could use your help. I'm taking the _Holy Justice_ to the star cluster the humans call 34 Tauri, as part of our ongoing search for the missing Supreme Commander. That system has over thirty planets and hundreds of moons. Most of those planets and moons were glassed during the war, but enough still survive to provide a lot of trouble for those surveying the cluster. I need two ships for this; a lone vessel could be searching the cluster all week."

"34 Tauri..." Alan muttered. He recalled Lofwyr mentioning that name during his speech about the _Serenity_'s history. Behind him Rachel let out a small gasp, her eyes growing wide.

"Should we expect trouble there?" Alan continued. "If they see an Elite ship in the system, someone there's going to go crazy."

"I shouldn't think so," Mitsu replied, shaking his head. "Tom tells me that those planets which weren't glassed were evacuated. If any colonies still stand, they will be nothing but ruins. We should not run into any hostile parties during our search."

"Except, perhaps, for the Reavers..." Bishop then chimed in, prompting the others to look at him with looks of alarm. Rachel, however, had gone very white in the face.

"Lofwyr said something about Reavers..." Alan said thoughtfully.

"Forgive my ignorance," Mitsu said, "but what's a Reaver?"

"They were men and women once," was the surprising answer which Rachel gave. "They became truly mad, piercing and disfiguring themselves, attacking ships and colonies in the Outer Systems. They would kill their victims, rape them, mutilate them, eat them and use their skins as clothing. If you were lucky, they did it to you in that order." She was very quiet and pale as she spoke, sounding thoroughly disgusted. "My parents used to say to me that if I wasn't a good girl, the Reavers would get me. I didn't find out everything about them until I was a teenager. Before then, I thought they were just a scary bedtime story."

"They were the result of an experiment gone wrong," Bishop continued. "34 Tauri was not under the jurisdiction of the UNSC until about forty years ago. Communications with Earth from that sector were not possible for a long time due to some unique interstellar phenomena, leading the first settlers there back in the 23rd century to believe that the Earth had been destroyed. In that time, the cluster fell into the control of the Alliance, a totalitarian regime that saw themselves as the lawbringers and guardians of the colonies whether the people wanted it or not. They conducted a secret experiment in mind conditioning on the planet Miranda which was supposed to render the population incapable of violent action. Most of the population died, rendered incapable of doing anything, even the basic functions necessary for survival. The rest became the Reavers. Rachel is not exaggerating with her account; the Reavers were beyond madness. They were pure evil."

"They sound like nasty pieces of work," Mitsu rumbled. "Where were they found?"

"On the edge of the Outer Planets," Bishop said. "By all accounts, however, they were all believed to be exterminated, though there are no reliable reports as to how that was accomplished. Pockets of them may still survive; I only mention them to advise you all to be cautious."

"Understood," Mitsu said, nodding. "They can't be any worse than the Flood, but we'll be careful."

"I'll send you all the information we have on the Reavers and their methods," Bishop said.

"Very well then," Mitsu said, becoming more authoritative. "Tom supplied us with maps of the cluster. We'll search the Georgia, Kalidasa and Blue Sun systems, leaving the _Serenity_ with the White Sun and Red Sun systems. With any luck we won't be staying in the cluster for more than a day, if we take the glassed and non-terraformed worlds into account."

"Understood," Alan said. "When do we depart?"

"Within the next ten minutes," Mitsu replied. "I will go and prepare my crew for slip-space now. Good luck in your hunt."

"You too," Alan replied. The two Shipmasters saluted each other, and then Mitsu and his guards stepped back onto the _Holy Justice_. As Bishop closed the airlock doors and raised the ramps, Alistair and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was tense," Alistair said. "What did you think of him, Captain?"

"Very focused," Alan said. "Did you notice how once he got rolling on our mission requirements that that was all he'd talk about? I think he just wants to get there and get the job done. Something tells me he's frustrated, but I don't blame him; we've been at this search for about three weeks now with no results."

"Well, we'll just have to search some more," Alistair shrugged. "Let's go prep for departure."

Ten minutes later both the _Serenity_ and the _Holy Justice_ had broken away from the fleet, and were now speeding through slip-space to the parts of the cluster they were to search. Before they had left, Mitsu had contacted the ship, sending Bishop a special Sangheili frequency that was to be used in their distress signal should they run into trouble. Mitsu doubted that they would need it, but he always felt it best to be on the side of caution.

According to Bishop, it would be little over an hour before they reached the White Sun system in 34 Tauri, so Alan spent the time checking the stock in the cargo bay. Lofwyr had apparently called in a lot of favours to get these supplies for the mission, but a lot of the crates in the bay were still untouched, as Alan had not seen any need to open them. He had just noticed a large metal crate buried under stacks of other boxes when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind.

"Captain?" he heard Rachel's voice say in a small voice. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Alan turned away from the pile of crates and looked over at her. He noticed that she was looking somewhat nervous, and he gave her a smile as warm as his reptilian features would allow.

"I always make time for my crew," he said. "What do you need?"

"Well, it's just that..." Rachel said nervously, wringing her hands. "When I heard we were heading to 34 Tauri, something just occurred to me. I thought that... No," she stammered, shaking her head. "No, I don't want to get in the way of our mission, I'll just..."

"Rachel, what's wrong?" Alan asked. It was painfully obvious that something was troubling her, and if there was one thing he disliked was the idea of any of his crew being in trouble. Aside, maybe from José, but then he usually brought his troubles on himself. "It's okay, you know; I'm not gonna bite, no matter what my appearance says."

"Okay," Rachel nodded, still looking nervous. "Well, Lofwyr told you that my parents and my auntie were on the _Serenity_ before me, right? Something's been bothering me for a long time about them." She paused, clearing her throat, nervously trying to organise her words. 

"My Auntie River used to be at our house a lot. She was such an odd woman; smiling and dancing one minute, then completely reclusive the next. She really didn't like our trideo system; she couldn't stand to be in the same room as it. I remember on a night, often we couldn't get any sleep. Auntie River would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, like she'd had a really bad dream or something. My dad's a doctor, and he always told me that Auntie River wasn't well, but wouldn't say exactly what was wrong with her. Even when I grew up, my parents always dodged the subject, though I once heard my mum say that Auntie River misses _Serenity_ terribly. It might have been the only place she ever felt at home. The only other thing they ever said was that they had been on the run from the Alliance, but they never said why."

"And you think there'll be answers for what's wrong with her in 34 Tauri?" Alan asked.

"I know it's a long shot," Rachel replied, glumly, "but I thought that, you know, if we had the time, we could look and see what we find. She gave us our problems, but I love my Auntie River, and I wanna know what happened to her out here. If there's even just the teeniest, tiniest chance..."

Alan looked thoughtful. He knew that Rachel was right in that it was indeed a long shot that they'd find anything. On the other hand, he knew that he had to keep his crew focused on the mission ahead, and resolving any personal issues they had would be the best way to do that. Even if they didn't find anything, he hoped that Rachel would be satisfied that they had tried.

"I'll see what I can do, Rachel," he replied. "We can talk it over with Bishop and we'll look at likely places to search. I'm sure Mitsu won't mind us taking some extra time to do a thorough check."

Rachel nodded, and the pair walked back up the gantries to the flight deck. Alan walked straight over to Bishop while Rachel stared out of the viewing ports, watching the swirling slip-space portal speeding past them.

"I've never seen slip-space," she sighed, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Bishop," Alan said to the android pilot, "we've got an extra job for you. Rachel, why don't you tell him what you told me?"

Rachel was so entranced by the sight of slip-space that she didn't hear Alan at first. After Alan called her again she shook herself and repeated her story to Bishop. The android nodded, looking sympathetic; Alan had been about to ask whether Bishop was capable of feeling genuine emotions, but he saw that it was not a good time to do so. In any case, Kiryuu Knight had been capable of emotions, so who was he to doubt if Bishop could manage it?

"Let me see..." Bishop muttered, once Rachel had finished her story. He turned back to his console and began to call up various star charts. "I believe the best place to start looking for answers would be the planet where your father and aunt boarded the _Serenity_ for the first time. Where did they board, Rachel?"

"At the Eavesdown Docks on Persephone," Rachel replied. "My dad smuggled Auntie River on board in a cryo-chamber shaped like a cargo crate." Bishop nodded and zoomed in with the star chart, displaying a small planet orbiting what Bishop referred to as a 'protostar'.

"Here it is," Bishop said. "The last planet in the White Sun system. It fits the profile that I had in mind from Rachel's account. The planet had a stratified society, leaving the room open for a large criminal element. The Tams must have had some contact with it to have rendered themselves outlaws, and those outside the law would have arranged River's smuggling. If there are answers to be found, this is my most educated guess as to where they are." He pointed at the screen, indicating the scrolling text on the side. "According to these reports, Persephone was evacuated but not glassed. It should be safe for us to explore to, as humans might put it, 'your heart's content'." He looked away for a moment, as if there was something he wasn't sure they should be discussing.

"What's wrong?" Alan asked.

"I've just been thinking about River Tam's condition," Bishop replied. "From what Rachel described it sounds to me like she was disturbed in her mind. We know the Alliance has a history of keeping secrets and have conducted experiments in thought control, so we should look in their main facilities in the capital for a start. I have the strong feeling that there is a connection."

"Alright then," Alan nodded. "Set a course."

Unseen by the others, Rachel made her way back to the engine room. What Bishop had said sounded so fantastical, but for some reason she couldn't dismiss it as an over-active imagination. For one thing, Bishop didn't have an imagination, and secondly the more she thought about the Alliance's history the more sense it made for them to try further experiments. She sighed, holding her head in her hands. She tried to distract herself by checking the engine's condition, but there was little that needed doing, and it was too dangerous to work on it while in slip-space.


	2. Skeletons in the Family Closet

**Disclaimer:** This segment contains a transcript of "The River Tam Sessions", written by Joss Whedon.

**Skeletons in the Family Closet**

Hours later, the _Serenity_ was entering the atmosphere around Persephone, on its way to the capital city. It was a cloudy day in the city, and Alan imagined that the city must have looked amazing when it was in its prime, full of sleek silver towers that extended far into the sky. Now the towers looked deserted, sad reminders of what once was. Adding to this melancholy sight were the miles of slums that stretched from all sides of the towers. In all, Alan felt that Persephone, as it now stood, was a very sorry sight.

Bishop had the idea of first exploring any medical facilities in the city, still chasing his theory about the Alliance's experiments. Alan didn't have a good feeling about this mission, but he saw no good reason to disbelieve Bishop's word. He knew Rachel wanted answers, but he had the horrible feeling that she was going to end up wishing she hadn't found them; a feeling which he was all-too-familiar with.

The _Serenity_ set down on the landing pad halfway up one of the towers; Bishop had deduced that this was the largest facility on the planet, so the crew thought it best to start their search there. As the ramp to the cargo bay lowered, Alan, José and Rachel all stepped off. Alistair was staying behind on the ship, after a heated argument with Rachel; she was adamant on seeing the facility with her own eyes, and the mission didn't necessitate more than three people in the ground team. The atmosphere was exactly identical to Earth's so there was no need for respirators; there was not even any need for the airlock. As the _Serenity_ departed for the sky, Rachel looked out across the great city with a forlorn expression.

"It looks so dead..." she said quietly. "There must have been millions of people here once upon a time, but now there's no life here at all."

"The war drove them all off, amiga," José muttered darkly. "I wonder if any of our supposed allies were here at any point, glassing planets left and right."

"Why don't you try asking Mitsu when we get back?" Alan asked, secretly wishing that he would purely to see the results. Either José had missed the sarcasm in Alan's tone, or he had decided not to risk getting into unnecessary trouble for once, for he remained silent while pointing towards the walkway leading off from the landing pad. It led to a small iron door nestled in the side of the towering grey monolith which continued above them. The trio walked up to the door and managed to wrench it open.

"Bishop was telling me," Alan said, "that the Central Planets in the cluster were the most advanced ones. The Outer Planets were more like the old frontier cultures; six-guns, horses, the works. Wish I could have seen it for myself."

"The UNSC never got very far either," José shrugged. "The war put all thoughts of explorin' outta everyone's heads."

"To think people once thought we'd have colonies on the Moon a few short years after Armstrong and his lot stepped on it," Alan sighed. "It took us long enough to get beyond our own atmosphere; I hate to think how long it'll be before we have colonies all over the galaxy."

"That's not even considering the aliens out there," Rachel chimed in. "I bet they're not all as friendly as the Elites have been." At this statement José let out a derisive snort, but on noticing the reproachful looks he was getting from his crew-mates he decided not to pursue the matter further.

"Well, friendlier now that the war's over, anyway," Rachel added, sounding embarrassed.

Inside the building it was dark and eerie. José and Rachel pulled out flashlights while Alan let his eyes get used to the gloom. From what they could tell they had stepped into an emergency exit, as they were in a metal stairwell that stretched a long way up and down. Alan looked down at his commlink, and brought up a set of diagrams of the building.

"I just hope the blueprints Bishop gave us are good," he muttered. "We'd be best off looking for the generator rooms first, try and get some things working again. We'll have to go all the way down the basement, I'm afraid."

"Never mind, Captain," Rachel said brightly. "Look on the bright side; we can work off a few extra calories."

The group made their way down the staircase. The sounds of their footsteps on the metal should have echoed all around them, but they were muffled by a thick layer of dust on the stairs. It lay there undisturbed except by the group's own feet. After an hour of this tedious descent, they reached the first sub-level, where the controls for the generator were supposed to be located. Working their way through narrow corridors lined with many steel pipes, the reached the control overlooking the gigantic generators. The building ran on a geothermal power supply, and looking out of the viewing glass Alan could see the huge pipes stretching for miles below the surface.

"These generators supposedly power the whole district," Alan said, looking at his commlink. "We only need the power for this building restored though." He looked carefully at the commlink's screen, trying to decipher a series of technical schematics. After a minute he pointed to one of the large control panels. "Try that one," he said.

Rachel set to work on the controls, deciphering their use a lot more quickly than Alan would have. He never failed to be impressed by this natural aptitude she had with machinery; he could not have asked for a better engineer. Within minutes, after she had turned several valve handles and pulled large levers, there was a loud humming noise and the lights in the control room sprang into life. Rachel beamed at the others.

"Where to next then, Captain?" she asked pleasantly, as if this was just a very interesting day out.

"Uh..." Alan stammered, glancing back down at the blueprints. "There are three lifts in the main lobby," he said. "One leads down here and to the other sub-levels; I guess that's for the maintenance crews. Another heads to all the other floors, but the last one..." His eyes widened, surprised by what he was seeing. "This one only goes as far as the 52nd floor. I wonder if it's an express elevator of some kind." He started to move out of the control room, the others following him.

They eventually found the service elevator and rode up to the lobby. It was a very plain-looking area, with no clear sign of who owned the building or what its exact purpose was. Bishop had said that it was a facility for medical research at one time, though it was never used as a hospital. They moved around the lobby searching for the correct elevator. When they found it they stepped inside, the command button responding to their touch. There was only one button inside the elevator, and upon pressing it the doors closed and the elevator sped up the shaft; it was so quick that the group felt as if lead weights had suddenly placed themselves on their shoulders.

Upon reaching their destination, they stepped out into a small antechamber with plain white walls. Opposite them was another door, with what looked like a keypad and a retinal scanner. Beside them was a sign saying 'Please Have Identification Ready'.

"Balls," Alan muttered. "There's no way we'll be able to trick that." He turned to look at Rachel.

"You think this might be the place?" he asked.

"I really don't know, boss," Rachel said. "I've just remembered something though. I couldn't sleep one night and I came down for a glass of water, and I overheard an argument between my parents. My dad let slip something about an 'Academy', and my mum kept saying something about 'just telling her'. Then I remember Auntie River screaming from the spare room, and my dad came out into the hall and saw me. He looked like he had seen a ghost."

"Well, there's no way we're passing that lock," Alan said. "We'll have to find another way in. Who knows; maybe it's this Academy your dad mentioned."

They stepped back into the elevator and began to ride down, but almost as soon as it started to move Alan jabbed his finger on the emergency stop switch. The elevator shuddered to a halt, and Alan stood under the large vent grating in the ceiling.

"Rachel," he said, "get yourself up there and have a look around. I'll give you a boost."

Rachel nodded and balanced herself on Alan's shoulders. Wobbling precariously, Alan was able to push her up to the vent. She pushed the grating open and climbed out onto the roof.

"We've stopped right under the 52nd floor!" she called down. "There's a vent right under it!" There was a moment's pause as Rachel had a closer look. "It'll be a tight fit, but I think we can all get in!"

"Right, get yourself in there!" Alan called. "We're coming up!" He heard Rachel move the vent cover aside, and there was a sudden crashing sound; she must have knocked it down the elevator shaft. Alan pushed José up to the elevator's roof, and then was pulled up himself by José. All three of them squashed themselves, one after another, into a narrow air duct right below the elevator doors, though Alan hesitated somewhat before squeezing himself inside.

"This sure brings back memories..." Alan groaned.

"Waddaya mean, boss?" José asked.

"I used to be a Shadowrunner a long time ago," Alan replied. "I ended up spending more time in vents than I care to remember. I hated those moments." He was slightly claustrophobic, and crawling through vents once again caused him to start shaking slightly.

"There's a light up ahead!" Rachel crawled after a few minutes of crawling. Alan almost hit his head on José's boots as everyone stopped. He heard a rattling noise up ahead, and a rustling sound. As José moved forward he was soon pulling himself out of a square hole in the floor of the 52nd floor. Alan quickly joined them, relieved to be out of the vent. They had surfaced at a crossroads in a plain-looking corridor. One path led right back to the security door.

"Everybody split up," Alan said, looking down the eastern corridor. "Give a shout on the commlink if you find anything." The three of them took separate corridors, with Alan heading down the corridor on his left. For a while there didn't seem to be anything of great importance; it looked like he had found the living area, which had various bedrooms and common rooms. The rooms looked very plain and empty, though he assumed the inhabitants had packed in a hurry when the planet was being evacuated.

Soon he reached a corner, leading back to his left. He noticed that, if he had his bearings right, then these main corridors were running parallel to the outside walls. This struck him as odd, since there still seemed to be a good distance between the outer rooms and the outside wall. He also noticed that none of the rooms he had seen so far had windows. It was almost as if somebody really didn't want any potential outsiders to see what was going on here, though windows had been quite visible on the outside. He had the insane idea that the outer rooms were in fact decoys, something he saw as unnecessary considering that they were more than fifty floors up. Somebody was going to a lot of trouble to keep up appearances. It also occurred to him just how few living quarters there were; if this was an academy of some kind, they didn't get a lot of clients. The place in general looked very unwelcoming; even with the lights on the corridors were still dimly-lit. It felt to him like a military bunker.

"Rachel, José," he said into his commlink. "It's all dead here. You guys found anything?"

"_Not a red cent, boss,"_ José drawled. _"I've found what looks like a maintenance hatch. I think it leads to that cooling tower we saw next to this building on our way here. From the looks of things, I'd say there were interrogation rooms here. Not exactly a friendly academy, by the looks of it."_

"Rachel?" Alan asked. As Alan was about to try and hail her again, he thought he heard muffled sounds coming from the speaker. There was a sniffing noise, and a faint whimpering. Suddenly the communication line closed, and Alan's attempts to hail her went unheeded.

"José," Alan said firmly, "Forget that corridor and meet me at Rachel's position." He began to run down the corridor back to the intersection, and headed down the central corridor where Rachel had gone. He met José outside one of the rooms, which disconcertingly was a heavy door made out of metal, and both ran inside. What they saw made their jaws drop.

They were inside a circular chamber, dimly-lit and with monitoring equipment stretching around every wall. In the centre of the chamber was what looked like a dentist's chair, only with metallic restraints on the arms and the back. Above the chair the central light was surrounded by metal arms, each of which had a painful-looking implement on the end. It was as if the room was a diseased parody of an operating theatre, like something out of every child's apprehensive nightmare about hospitals. Rachel was in the room, on her knees near one of the terminals, and was sobbing openly. Noticing this, José quickly ran up to her and placed a comforting arm around her.

"Rachel?" he asked, in a surprisingly gentle voice. "What's the matter, mi amiga?"

Rachel didn't answer, but instead continued to sob, her face buried in her hands. She trembled as José put his arm around her, but didn't try to throw him off. Alan only stood, aghast. He had never seen Rachel so upset before, not even during an incident a week ago when Alistair had almost killed her. She had seen something in this room to make her incredibly upset, and he doubted that just the sight of the apparent torture chair alone would have done this to her on its own. While José continued to try and comfort her, Alan approached the monitor that they were in front of. He noticed a card sticking out of a slot on the front of the machine. He looked at the label, noticing the words 'R. Tam. Interviewer Dr. J. Whedon' scrawled on them. It seemed rather careless that somebody would leave something like this lying about; Alan assumed that they had been looking at it prior to the evacuation and had forgotten to remove it.

With some anxiety, he pushed the card into the slot. Immediately a title card appeared on the screen with the words 'R. Tam: Session 1'. The card was soon replaced by a black-and-white image from what he assumed to be one of the interrogation rooms José had mentioned earlier. There were two people in the room; one man and one woman. The man had his back to the camera; only his arm and the left side of his head were visible. The focus was on the woman, who looked to be in her late teens at the youngest. She smiled at the man, wearing a neat dress and with well-maintained, long black hair.

"_And you like school?"_ the man was asking.

"_I do," _the woman replied. Looking back at Rachel, still sobbing, he began to realise that he was seeing what her Auntie River looked like. He assumed that the man was Doctor Whedon.

"_It's..."_ River was saying,_ "Sometimes things move a little slowly for me."_

"_I imagine they do,"_ the doctor replied._ "What's your favourite subject?"_

"_I'm finding physics a challenge,"_ River replied, looking slightly embarrassed.

"_You're in the graduate program already,"_ Whedon said, sounding slightly impressed.

"_They call me Little Mouse,"_ River replied.

"_Do you think they're jealous, because you're so young?"_ Whedon asked.

"_Wulger is a little..."_ River said, taking a moment to gather her words._ "He plans to be somebody very important."_

"_Did he tell you he was jealous?"_ Whedon asked.

"_Oh, no!" _River replied, chuckling._ "I just..."_

"_You feel it,"_ Whedon offered. River paused for a moment, looking thoughtful.

"_People tell you things all the time without talking," _she said._ "The way they move... the way they aren't talking."_

"_You're very intuitive,"_ Whedon said.

"_Simon says I was born with the third eye,"_ River said, smiling._ "He hates it when I can tell which girls he likes."_

"_Your brother..."_ Whedon continued._ "He's a doctor, right?"_

"_He's a trauma surgeon in Capital City,"_ River replied.

"_Quite a family,"_ Whedon said.

"_Simon's a genius,"_ River said proudly._ "I can never do what he does."_

"_I think you could do anything you put your mind to,"_ Whedon said in the tone of a guidance counsellor._ "That's what the Alliance needs. That's what this institute is about... Your mind, letting it do everything it could. Does that sound like something you'd be interested in?"_ There was a prolonged pause, as River seemed to contemplate her answer. Finally she allowed herself a smile.

"_Will I still be allowed to dance?"_ she asked sweetly.

The scene flashed off, and then the next segment, Session 22, began. When Alan saw River's face on the screen he almost didn't recognise her. The cheerfulness present in the first entry was gone; in fact, she now looked very ill, her expression nauseous and her hair noticeably more lank. She was also now wearing medical scrubs.

"_But you understand why these treatments are important?"_ Whedon asked.

"_I don't think..."_ River mumbled._ "I'm sorry... I think there's been an error... I don't think... I think I may not be the right subject for these... for this program."_ Alan noticed that she had now developed the habit of rubbing her hand along her hair every so often, as if trying to hold her thoughts in her head.

"_It's perfectly natural to feel a little nervous..."_ Whedon began, but River interrupted him.

"_I just..."_ she said._ "If it was possible to be transferred, I would make... I would like to request a transfer."_

"_You want to be back in Gen-Ed?"_ Whedon asked, surprised.

"_Please..."_ River said. She looked pleadingly at Whedon.

"_You told us that was no good for you,"_ Whedon said slowly,_ "that it was too slow. That's why you're here."_

"_Please,"_ Rachel said again, tears beginning to stream down her face._ "It... hurts..."_

"_Well, I can help you with that,"_ Whedon replied simply._ "You know how proud Dr. Mathias is of how you're progressing..."_

"_I'm not progressing..."_ River said. Then the video cut to what seemed to be a few minutes later. River now looked tense and alert, staring at something that seemed to be off-camera, muttering incoherently to herself.

"_Tell me what you see,"_ Whedon asked. River turned to look at him with a blank expression.

"_You lost the first one,"_ she said._ "You cut too deep, he died on the table. One of your attendants cried and you comforted her... for doing such good work."_ She spat out the last few words, as if trying to remove a foul taste from her mouth.

"_Do you understand that that is true?"_ Whedon asked._ "What we do here is very important and you are a part of that."_

"_I would like to see my brother,"_ River then said firmly.

"_Well, you can write to him, if you like..."_ Whedon began, but it was clear that wouldn't satisfy River.

"_I need to..."_ River said firmly, but then seemed to calm down slightly._ "I would like, please, to see him..."_

"_Well, I'm sure he's very busy..."_ Whedon replied, after a pause. River looked away from him, looking very disappointed.

"_Yes..."_ she muttered._ "Yes, I'm sure..."_

If Alan had been startled by River's appearance by that session, then the next segment, Session 165, was even more alarming. River, her hair now falling over her face, was pacing back and forth in front of the desk, rambling incoherently and gesticulating wildly. Alan couldn't say for certain whether the words that came to him were the words that River had actually said, or whether he had made some of them up himself to try and match the sounds she was making:

"_Yes, I had a system. You make an assumption because you had a system. Your system... You're symptomatic, it's chronic! You think it's benign, but it has to be cut out! This system is simple; blankets folded on the sheet on top of the mattress... The mattress can't be trusted; it has to be gutted... I looked under twenty and found a pea and you wonder why I'm not sleeping? You're worried that I cut up my mattress for no good reason, but I had a perfect reason that you can't see! Can't... see... anyone... Even the orderlies wear masks..."_

"_Why did you cut up your mattress?"_ Whedon asked, apparently completely unperturbed by River's deteriorating condition.

"_I am trying to protect my spine!"_ River snarled, glaring at the doctor.

"_Are you worried you might be injured?"_ Whedon quickly said._ "Your movement trainers have given you an excellent review..."_

"_No-one will give me a mission!"_ River suddenly exclaimed.

"_A mission?"_ Whedon asked.

"_I have a reason!"_ River mumbled._ "I'm... reasonable... I've a reason!"_ The video then suddenly cut to another part of the same interview, and once again Alan found himself having to guess what River was rambling:

"_My movement hasn't been dictated yet, but I'm not feared for nothing! I... am a... sti... sty... You know I'm a spy... Something wrong... with the body politic..."_

Once again the video cut, and River was suddenly screaming, collapsing onto the table as if an invisible force was pushing her down.

"_They're sticking in me!"_ she screamed._ "It's into me, it's driving me crazy! Get it out! Get it out! You cut it out!"_

Before Alan even had time to process what he had just witnessed, the video cut to another card titled Session 416: First excerpt. Now when Alan saw River she looked positively frightening. She was sat facing away from Whedon, her hair wild and sticking out at odd angles.

"_You're very quiet today,"_ Whedon said, scribbling some notes down on a piece of paper._ "How did your session with Dr. Mathias go?"_

River's head turned slowly to face the doctor. Her expression was positively dead; she looked like someone who was in a trance.

"_He gave me a mission,"_ she said coldly.

"_Really?"_ Whedon asked._ "Did he tell you your mission out loud or did you just hear it?"_

River said nothing for a moment, before turning away again.

"_He plays hide and seek with me,"_ she said.

"_Dr. Mathias?"_ Whedon asked.

"_My brother,"_ River replied._ "He's a doctor. He thinks he can find me, but... I am deep down, and I do not make a sound..."_

"_River, what mission did Dr. Mathias give you?"_ Whedon asked.

"_I can't tell you,"_ River replied simply.

"_You can tell me anything,"_ Whedon said with as much false sincerity as he could muster._ "You know that."_

"_Can't... tell..."_ River muttered. Then she raised her arm and stretched it out towards the doctor, the palm of her hand upwards._ "I'll have to write it down..."_ she said simply.

The next title card read _Session _416: Second excerpt. When the excerpt began River was gone. Instead, Whedon was alone, making horrible straining noises. He then gasped and lurched forward, making horrible gagging sounds. His arm came into view as he placed his blood-soaked pencil onto the table. As the horrible gagging sounds increased, he collapsed onto the floor, and issued one final death-rattle.

Suddenly River burst into view, pressing her blood-soaked hand on what Alan assumed to be the glass dividing the interview room and the observation area. She was looking directly at the camera, breathing fast, looking terrified out of her mind, apparently appalled by what she had just done.

"_I can see you,"_ she said in a loud whisper. Then the video stopped, and there was nothing else to see.


	3. The FlyTrap

**The Fly-Trap**

Several long, awkward moments passed. Alan was surprised that he was feeling so shocked; after all, it seemed that humans had changed very little since he had been frozen back in the 21st century. However, the thought that somebody could torture that young woman for so long, driving her to the brink of total mental collapse, disgusted him to no end. It was small wonder that the previous _Serenity_ crew had been at such odds with the Alliance, if these were the kinds of crimes that they committed.

He looked down at Rachel, who was still sobbing into José's chest. He really didn't know what he could possibly say to make her feel better, after learning such a terrible truth. José, meanwhile, looked as disgusted as Alan felt. The last time he had seen the mercenary looking so disgusted was when they had learned of how one human's actions had almost cost humanity the war. He looked up at Alan, still embracing Rachel tightly.

"What do we do now, boss?" he asked, his voice shaking. Alan turned back to the computer monitor and began to fiddle about with his commlink. He plugged some wires into the device and pressed some buttons on the keypad.

"We get all the data that's here to Bishop," he said, trying to sound professional but not quite succeeding. "We've got to get this data back to Earth somehow. Thank God for this auto-hack tool; I never could get my head around hacking." He stood waiting silently while lines of code streamed across his commlink. José helped the trembling Rachel back to her feet. She had stopped weeping, but her eyes were still very red.

"Get it back to Earth?" Rachel asked. "But won't we-"

"Not straightaway, Rachel," Alan said patiently. "I'm not going to risk giving the fleet's position away to either the UNSC or the other Elites. We'll hold onto it, and maybe Bishop can give it a good read-through, find out what exactly happened to River. We've only seen the effects of what they were doing; we still don't know exactly what it was they did to make her like that." He sighed. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you, but..." He trailed off here, still not sure what he could say to Rachel at this point. The engineer sniffed, trying to put on a brave face, and nodded.

"I know, Captain," she said quietly. "I know."

A small chiming noise then came from Alan's commlink. He nodded, looking grimly satisfied.

"All the data should be up there now," he said, then lowered his head to speak into the commlink. "Bishop, we need an evac now. Did you get all the data?"

"_It's safe and sound, Captain,"_ Bishop's voice replied. _"It's encrypted, but very weakly. It should not take me too long to access the data. I'm on my way now; can you get back to the landing pad?"_

"We can," Alan replied, "with a bit of luck. We'll see you there." With that, the trio were soon out of the facility and riding back down the express elevator. Aside from unanimously agreeing to use one of the other elevators to ride back to the landing pad, they were all very quiet. The truths that they had just learned were very uncomfortable, and the two males felt that it was not something they should discuss unless Rachel brought the subject up. As they rode up the second elevator, Bishop suddenly contacted Alan again.

"_I've been taking a quick look at the data you sent me,"_ he said. _"I don't know if you want to hear this, but the facility you explored may not have been the Academy itself. There's nothing in this data to suggest that it was. It may have been a back-up facility to be used in case the Academy was compromised."_

"What are you talking about?" Alan asked. "If that wasn't the Academy, what was River's file doing there?"

"_I'm not certain,"_ Bishop replied. _"It may have been a copy that was taken off-site. All I can say for certain is that we may never know for certain whether our facility was the Academy. I suspect that was the kind of information never recorded electronically in case it was hacked or intercepted. The secret of the Academy may have died with the people responsible for creating it."_

With that, Bishop cut the transmission. Alan looked over at the other two, shaking his head.

"Frankly I'm past caring if this was the place or not," he snarled. "Let's just get out of here, then we can figure out what to do with the data."

Minutes later, the elevator reached their floor, and the trio made their way through short, plain corridors back to the fire escape. The cold wind hit them in the face as they stepped out onto the landing pad. It had started to rain while the group were in the building, and the rain drops stung them as they crossed the platform to the _Serenity_, which was already waiting for them. The cargo ramp lowered as they approached the ship, and the rain made soft noises as it hit the metal.

The ramp closed behind the team as they stepped back into the cargo bay. Instantly Rachel began to walk back towards the engine room with a rather forlorn expression. José, looking uncharacteristically concerned, made to go after her, but Alan put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head.

"Let her have a few minutes alone," he muttered. José looked as if he wanted to argue, but instead he walked with Alan in silence before heading down into his cabin. Alan had to admit that he was surprised by José, who seemed to be genuinely concerned for Rachel. He had figured that the mercenary didn't have a heart. He went back up to the flight deck, where the ship was already blasting its way through the planet's atmosphere.

"Any word about the data?" he asked.

"I've just been looking at it now, Captain," Alistair said from the co-pilot's console. "The encryption was easy for Bishop to break." He peered down at the screen for a few moments, and as the roaring sounds around the ship began to die away, his eyes opened wide. 

"Jesus..." he muttered.

"What is it?" Alan asked.

"I just..." Alistair stammered. "I don't believe it... That poor girl..."

Alan walked over to the co-pilot's console and peered around Alistair to read the screen. As the _Serenity_ pulled away from Persephone's orbit, he read and re-read the notes in silence. When he had finished, Alan shook his head in disbelief.

"They actually cut pieces out of her brain?" he asked, sounding disgusted.

"Yeah..." Alistair replied in a faint voice. "They chopped out most of her amygdala. What the hell for?"

"That part of the human brain," Bishop chimed in from the pilot's seat, "plays a key role in the processing and memories of emotional reactions. If it has been removed, River Tam may have been rendered incapable of controlling her emotions."

"It doesn't just end there," Alistair said, peering at the notes again. "They used her to test all sorts of mental conditioning techniques. Apparently they were trying to make the perfect assassin. They experimented on her like some plaything for two years before her brother was able to bust her out."

"That's the sickest thing I ever heard..." Alan snarled. It reminded him in many ways of his own bad experiences with scientists and their experiments. He had nothing but sympathy for the Tams and felt that the Alliance deserved every ounce of the trouble the previous _Serenity_ crew had given them.

"Well, with any luck the Alliance is long gone," Alistair said. "Anyway, we might as well move on to the next planet we can scan. Mitsu's not gonna be happy if we keep him waiting."

Half a minute passed in awkward silence, as Bishop prepared to make the jump into slip-space. Alan thought it to be a bit of a waste to use the drive for what would doubtless be a short journey, but on the other hand Mitsu wanted the system surveyed as quickly as possible. He only hoped that the ship's scanners were capable of making accurate as well as fast scans.

All of a sudden the ship began to shudder violently, and Alan found it difficult to stay on his feet. It was as if the ship was suddenly flying through heavy turbulence, but Alan knew that to be impossible. He glanced over at Bishop, as the ship continued to shake.

"What the hell's happening?" he called.

"I'm not sure..." Bishop replied. "I'm looking at the scanners. From our movement, it's as if the ship is being dragged backwards! I can't fight this pull!"

"Alright," Alan called, "turn us around and kill the jets! We'll end up shaking the ship apart at this rate!"

Bishop did as he was ordered, and as the Serenity turned around, they saw what was pulling them. In the distance was an immense space station, consisting of what looked like four huge towers on a large platform. The rattling ceased as Bishop switched off the engine. All of a sudden a voice could be heard coming from the pilot's console:

"_Civilian vessel, this is the Grand Alliance space colony Foresight. We are bringing you in on our tractor beam. Shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded. You are all under arrest. Any attempts to resist and we will shoot your vessel out of the Black."_

With that, the communicator went dead. Alan looked back over at Alistair, and both looked at each other with identical expressions of disbelief.

"What was it you were saying about the Alliance being long-gone?" Alan asked.

"Don't have a go at me!" Alistair replied. "How was I supposed to know they still had ships floating about?"

"Bishop," Alan called over to the pilot, "why didn't you spot that thing on our scanners?"

"There was nothing on my scanners to report, Captain," Bishop replied. "They must be using some kind of stealth technology to hide the heat emissions from their engines. That would mask them from any kind of scanner, but of course it's not true camouflage; anyone looking out of a window can still see them."

Alan snarled. The last thing he wanted right now was to have an encounter with the Alliance, after what he had just witnessed. He knew that if they found the data that had been taken from Persephone, the _Serenity_ crew would be in serious trouble. He also knew that there was a danger of the Alliance picking up the distress signal if they tried to contact Mitsu. Trying to escape in the shuttles was also pointless, as he was sure that they would be pursued and shot down if the ship had any fighter craft on board. He thought fast, and a plan came to his head; a risky plan with a very slim chance of success, but it was better than doing nothing.

"Alistair," he barked, "make a copy of that data we pulled now!"

"Aye-aye, Captain," the gargoyle said, and instantly set to work on the console, transferring the data to a separate disk.

"Bishop," Alan continued, "how much time do we have?"

"If our speed remains constant," Bishop said, "we have about fifteen minutes before we dock with the _Foresight_."

Alan nodded, and grabbed the intercom.

"All hands," he said firmly, "gather in the cargo bay immediately!" He switched off the intercom and turned to Alistair. "Join us when you've copied the data," he said, "and bring the disk!"

"Gotcha," Alistair nodded. Alan and Bishop sprinted out of the flight deck and were joined by José in the corridor, as he emerged from his cabin.

"What the hell's going on?" he asked.

"No time to explain!" Alan replied, continuing to dash to the cargo bay. "Just get to the cargo bay!"

0

Fifteen minutes later, the _Serenity_ was being pulled underneath the vast floating platform towards the airlocks. The station was enormous; the population of a small city could have fitted comfortably inside. The Serenity was positively dwarfed as it was slowly rotated the right way up for docking; though there was technically no right way up in space, the ship would now look to be upside-down to an outside observer.

Alan, Alistair and Bishop stood in the cargo bay, listening to the loud thudding sounds as the docking clamps secured themselves. The crew had agreed to not have any weapons on them in case they were confiscated. Alan had hidden his Technomantic weaponry, not wanting to risk them falling into the Alliance's hands. He looked at both of his companions; Alistair looked nervous, while Bishop was on high alert. Alan felt like his intestines had been replaced by live snakes, and he prayed to whatever god listened to the prayers of Godzilla mutants that his plan would work.

After several tense moments, there was a loud banging on the metal airlock door.

"Open it up, Bishop," Alan said. The android nodded and went to the control console for the airlock. He opened the heavy metal doors which separated the cargo bay from the outer door. A smaller hatch was built into the large ramp, through which a contingent of Alliance soldiers was pouring. All of them were dressed in identical purple body armour and carrying large assault rifles, which they pointed straight at the crew. All three of them raised their arms, more out of habit than any real desire to go quietly.

Following them through the door was what Alan assumed to be their commanding officer. Even though he looked to be in his mid-60s he looked in very good shape, standing bolt-upright and with his arms behind his back. His neat and clean military uniform showed a number of medals pinned to it, and his silver hair was short and neatly trimmed. He was looking at the crew and the ship with a look of extreme dislike.

"Which one of you is the Captain of this junker?" he barked.

"I am," Alan replied off-handedly. "Would you mind telling me exactly what it is we're under arrest for?"

"Not here," the officer replied. He turned to one of the other troopers. "Have a team search this ship from top to bottom. These old Fireflies are notorious for having so many hiding places; they may have smuggled goods or passengers on-board. I want no stone left unturned."

"Yes, sir," the soldier responded. He waved over to a group of his compatriots, and immediately they all set to work rifling through the storage crates and tapping on the walls for any hidden recesses. Alan scowled at the officer.

"I hope that you have a warrant for this," he said coldly. The officer returned a similarly frosty glare.

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you, changeling," he spat. "You're in enough trouble as it is. Now follow me, and don't try anything. My men are authorised to shoot to kill if you do."

Alan, Alistair and Bishop soon found themselves marching through the bowels of the space station. Most of what they saw consisted of white, well-lit corridors, though glimpses into other rooms revealed a hive of activity in a number of high-tech control rooms and workshops. It was a magnificent piece of engineering, though something about it all felt very cold and clinical. Everything seemed too neat and ordered, which gave Alan the impression that it all felt distinctly unreal. Eventually the party arrived at a large interrogation room, consisting of a single tidy glass table and two chairs.

"I want the Captain in here with me," the officer barked at his troops. "Don't let these two out of your sight." The soldiers nodded, while Alan was led into the interrogation room. He didn't wait to be told to sit down, and he glared at the officer as he sat down in the opposite chair.

"I'm Adrian Boscoe, Commander-in-Chief of the colony _Foresight_," the officer said in a cold tone. "Now care to tell me why you're trespassing in Alliance space?"

"Were we?" Alan replied rather sardonically. "Well, sorry. I didn't see any signs."

"Keep that spiteful tongue to yourself, lizard-breath," Boscoe snarled. "You're really not doing yourself any favours."

"I didn't need an invitation," Alan retorted. "My ship doesn't come under any authority."

"I'm the only authority around these parts, monster!" Boscoe roared. "You're gonna find that out soon enough!" His lips then curled into a nasty sneer. "You know, I couldn't believe my luck when I heard that this trespasser was none other than the _Serenity_ itself. That ship nearly destroyed the Alliance so long ago, but we have now survived to witness its final destruction. It's just a shame it has a new crew. What did you do to Malcolm Reynolds and the rest of the scum who travelled with him? Did you buy the ship from them? Steal it? Or maybe you killed them and cannibalised their bodies? You look like you'd fit right in with the Reavers."

Alan folded his arms and kept his expression frozen, refusing to be bullied by Boscoe. He was bursting to say something, but he knew that if he lost his temper then Boscoe would win. It was then that a beeping noise came from the ship's intercom. Boscoe walked over a small control panel on the wall and spoke into a microphone.

"Report," he said sharply.

"_We've completed our sweep of the captured ship,"_ a voice on the other end replied. _"The evidence suggests that there should be at least two more crew members, but we found no sign of them on the ship. Both shuttles are accounted for, and the engine looks to have been extensively modified. Whatever technology they reinforced it with, it's not human."_

"Understood," Boscoe replied. "Take your men out, but leave two guards stationed at the airlock. We'll prepare the charges later and scuttle the ship."

"_But sir!"_ the soldier's voice replied, sounding surprised. _"The technology here is incredible! Think of what we could do if we adapted it to the colony!"_

"I want no arguments, soldier!" Boscoe roared. "I will not let this ship or anyone on it be indebted to god-damn aliens! They nearly destroyed our entire cluster! Now get your ass back in here and ready the scuttle charges! I'll be down there to oversee it myself when I've dealt with the crew! Is that clear?"

"_Yes, sir,"_ the soldier responded. Boscoe walked away from the control panel and sat himself back down at the interrogation table. Alan thought he could see a vein throbbing in his temple.

"Where are the rest of your crew?" Boscoe asked gruffly.

"We left them ashore on a surveillance mission," Alan replied, his cover story ready. "They're down on Persephone now, if you want to check."

"Surveillance?" Boscoe replied, snorting derisively. "Scavenging, more like. Filthy degenerates, picking through the bones of the dead..."

"You're one to talk," Alan retorted. "How've you been able to keep your precious colony running, eh? You can't have stayed afloat for... well, it must be over forty years now... not without doing some bone-picking of your own. Even then I doubt the surviving worlds would have enough resources left to last that long..." It was then that an idea hit him.

"You've got a planet somewhere, haven't you?" he asked. "The UNSC probably never cottoned on to your presence through that nifty stealth system of yours, and after the evacuation everything would have been nice and quiet. I wouldn't be surprised if you planted your flag on one of the abandoned worlds. I'm surprised you didn't pick Persephone, myself. I expect you wanted to avoid the attention of any UNSC or Covenant patrols, so you picked somewhere a bit quieter. One of the Outer Planets would have been ideal."

"Very astute," Boscoe said. "Not all of us went with the evacuation. Several ships still remained loyal to the Grand Alliance. We found a world for ourselves far away from the gaze of any meddlers. It has taken a long time, and it hasn't been without sacrifice, but we've become self-sustaining again, on our own world, from which we have reclaimed our cluster. We intend to keep it, no matter what your precious UNSC thinks. We'll go to war with them if we have to in order to keep order in this cluster."

"Is that so?" Alan retorted. "They'll be very interested in hearing about that, and about the experiments I learned about on Persephone. They'll want to know of your little black project, hurting an innocent girl for two years and driving her mad, all for the sake of making a new weapon. You might want to re-think scuttling our ship, not unless you want my 'missing' crew to alert them to your continued existence."

"I don't negotiate with terrorists," Boscoe snarled. Alan was now gaining a better idea between this Alliance's ambitions and their powers. These survivors were a joke; they had delusions of grandeur which would not save them from the UNSC if they ever got wind of their activities.

"You might want to rethink that policy," Alan retorted. "My crew are under orders to send for help should they not hear from me after a certain amount of time. In fact, that's probably what they're doing right now."

"We'll be ready for any reinforcements," Boscoe spat. "We have spent so many long years rebuilding, and we are ready to fight the UNSC! The Alliance will survive, which is more than I can say for you!"

He was on the point of drawing the pistol attached to his hip, when the ship suddenly shook violently. Alarms sounded all over the ship, and red lights began to flash down the corridors. Boscoe staggered over to the intercom and slammed his finger against it.

"What happened?" he barked.

"_There was an explosion at one of our starboard engines!"_ a voice responded. _"Something fired at us from the captured vessel! We'll be visible to any ship's scanners in the area!"_

"Impossible!" Boscoe barked.

"_That's not all!"_ the panicked voice continued. _"At the same time, a signal was activated from the ship, and... Wait... Something's happening outside... Some kind of gateway is opening up in the middle of space! Something's emerging from it..."_

While Boscoe was distracted, looking more and more furious by the report, Alan was able to get to his feet and clutched his chair tightly. Boscoe was caught completely unaware as Alan threw the chair hard at him. He was knocked to the floor and Alan pounced on him, knocking him out with a single punch. Grabbing his gun, he left the interrogation room to find Alistair and Bishop outside. Alistair was cracking his knuckles, and the two guards assigned to watch them were unconscious; apparently they too had been caught by surprise when the explosion struck.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Alan said, as more explosions began to rock the ship. The three of them dashed back towards the _Serenity_, with Alan incredibly thankful that his plan had worked.


	4. With A Little Help From My Friends

**With A Little Help From My Friends**

Forty-five minutes earlier, as the _Serenity_ was being slowly pulled towards the _Foresight_, the crew had gathered in the cargo bay. Alan had immediately dashed towards a set of lockers quite close to the airlock, and began to pull various pieces of spacesuits out of them. The others looked at him, puzzled.

"What are you doing?" Alistair asked.

"We can't let the Alliance catch us all," Alan replied. "They're probably familiar with all the hidden spaces on a Firefly, so it's too risky hiding anyone on the ship. There's only one place left."

"Are you crazy?" José asked; eyeing the spacesuits warily, he realised where this one hiding place was and now looked very nervous. "What if they have scanners or happen to look out of a window?"

"You try coming up with a better idea then," Alan snapped. José fell silent, apparently unable to think of such an idea.

"Now we need volunteers to go outside," Alan continued. "Obviously myself and Alistair are ruled out; the suits weren't made with our body shapes in mind. So who's going out there? Don't make me order anybody."

"I'll go," Rachel suddenly chimed in. Alan had to admit that he hadn't expected this; Rachel didn't strike him as the space-walking type.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to _Serenity_," she said bravely. "If there's any way I can help, I'll do it."

"Count me in, amiga," José suddenly chimed in. Alan was sure he could guess why José was eager to stay with Rachel. The engineer looked rather taken aback, but nodded appreciatively.

"Bishop?" Alan asked.

"I'd better stay with you and Alistair," Bishop replied. "It's very unlikely that just two people can keep a Firefly running. Having three crew members is less likely to attract suspicion. I also suggest forming a cover story in case our cabins are searched."

"We'll just say our missing crew members are ashore," Alistair said.

"Right," Alan nodded. "Rachel, José, get these suits on. Here's what I want you to do..."

Alan explained the rest of his plan to the two humans as they were quickly sealed into their spacesuits. It was a very dangerous plan with so many things that could go wrong, but it was the best chance they had. Their only hope was to catch the Alliance forces off-guard; everything hinged on that. As the _Serenity_ slid under the enormous _Foresight_, José and Rachel emerged from the top emergency hatch. Using special magnets on their boots and gloves, they were able to keep themselves attached to the hull and slowly crawled towards the windows above the galley.

Out in space there was nothing but a gaunt quiet. Not even the hissing of steam as the _Serenity_ docked could be heard by either of the humans. When they were close enough to the windows José checked them every so often while the Alliance soldiers conducted their search. Fortunately none of them looked up and spotted him. He vividly remembered his zero-gravity combat training, especially how it had made him sick to his stomach. He had avoided going out into the vacuum of space unless he had no other option; he soon found himself feeling very queasy and kept his eyes firmly fixed on the hull. Rachel, however, was gazing up at the stars with an expression of total awe on her face. The starfield was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Neither of the two spoke, in case their radio transmissions were intercepted.

After about twenty minutes, the coast seemed to be clear, so José decided to risk going back inside the ship. He motioned for Rachel to follow, and the pair made their way back to the airlock. Within minutes they were climbing out of the airlock and back into the small annex near the crew cabins. Both of them peeled off their helmets, looking relieved. The ship was very quiet; the soldiers had gone.

"Right," Rachel said in a loud whisper "time for phase two." She and José dashed onto the flight deck. Their plan was to send the distress signal and alert Mitsu to what had happened. However, Rachel was very observant when it came to the machinery on the ship, and she immediately noticed a problem.

"Oh no..." she groaned. She bent down beneath the console and started extracting bunches of wires.

"What's going on?" José asked. Not being as well-versed in machinery as Rachel, he didn't spot any difference. Rachel turned to him, looking very worried.

"They must have expected us to try something like this," she said. "They've booby-trapped both consoles. If we try to do anything to them, we'll probably get blown to bits!"

"How long will it take to fix?" José asked.

"It could be minutes, it could be hours," Rachel said uncertainly. She looked back down at the wires in her hand. "If I sever the wrong connections... well, you can probably guess."

"Work on it!" José suddenly said. "I've got a Plan B!" Suddenly he strode out of the flight deck and back into the corridor. "Seal the door after me!" he said before slamming the door shut.

"What are you doing?" Rachel shouted, but he was already halfway down the corridor and didn't hear her. Frustrated, Rachel sealed the door shut and set to work on removing the traps, trying her hardest not to let her hands shake.

José, meanwhile, moved quietly into the cargo bay and pulled open a long crate marked 'BFG'. Slowly he pulled what looked like an enormous cannon, longer than his arm, out of it. Luckily none of the search party seemed to have bothered to check the crates to any great length. Glancing back down towards the hatch leading to the airlock, he saw the back of one soldier standing guard. Fortunately the guard didn't hear him, so he tiptoed back to the crew's quarters. Outside the airlock he slammed his spacesuit helmet back onto his head, and climbed back outside.

He stood on the hull, his boots gripping it firmly, trying not to look at the stars. The cannon was a modified Spartan Laser, designed to be held by regular humans. Part of his mission from Malcho on this ship was to test the capabilities of the weapon, and it just so happened that one of the requirements was to test it in the vacuum of space. The gun was much easier to hold out in zero gravity, and so he took careful aim at a promising-looking dome on the underside of the ship. He held the trigger, allowing the weapon to charge up a shot in his hands.

"Here's a distraction for ya, fright-features," he muttered, before firing the weapon. No sound came out of the gun, but the enormous red laser that cut its way through space gave the impression of being a noisy weapon elsewhere. The laser struck the dome, causing it to explode. With a grin on his face, José quickly climbed back inside the ship.

He was not a moment too soon, for he heard running footsteps from the cargo bay. He quickly set aside the Spartan Laser and pulled out his own handgun. Seconds later two soldiers ran into the corridor. They didn't see José as they ran towards the flight deck. The mercenary jumped out from his cover and shot both in the legs. Both soldiers went down, crying in agony. Rachel emerged from the flight deck, beaming.

"I did it!" she said triumphantly. "I sorted out the consoles and the distress signal is on its way!"

"Right," José nodded, taking the soldiers' weapons away. "We'll take these two to the passenger cabins and lock 'em up. The Captain can decide what to do with them when he gets back."

The soldiers, barely able to move, didn't struggle as they were led to the passenger cabins next to the common room and locked inside. Afterwards, José and Rachel ran back to the cargo bay. There was a lot of noise coming from the ship, and the sounds of approaching footsteps. There was a violent shaking, and the two humans dived for cover behind some crates as more soldiers entered the cargo bay and began shooting. José fired back, taking down two of the guards while the others also hid. Both he and Rachel exchanged shots with the soldiers, but it was clear that they didn't have enough ammo on them to hold back the siege for long.

Suddenly the soldiers were gunned down from behind. José and Rachel peered over the crates, and were relieved to see Alan, Alistair and Bishop stepping over the bodies. Bishop immediately went to the airlock control and closed both the hatch and the metal doors.

"You made it!" Rachel said, overjoyed.

"Great job, guys," Alan said, grinning. He looked around the dead soldiers on the floor. "We've got no time to be neat. Bishop, let's get out of here!"

"I couldn't have put it better myself, Captain," Bishop said. The five of them ran back to the flight deck and Bishop sat himself down at the console. Within seconds he had disconnected the ship from the airlock and was speeding away from the underside of the ship. A vivid sight welcomed them.

The _Holy Justice_ had arrived on the scene, having answered the distress signal. They had managed to get to the scene in record time through slip-space, and now the ship's cannons were blazing, the plasma fire tearing the ship apart. The _Foresight_'s own laser cannons were having almost no effect on the Destroyer's shielding. Several sections of the ship were evidently on fire, and whole chunks of it had simply disintegrated. Some of the lasers shot in the direction of the _Serenity_, but Bishop was able to steer the ship safely out of their way. After a short while the laser fire from the _Foresight_ stopped; the _Holy Justice_ must have taken out its weapons array.

"Open a channel to the _Holy Justice_," Alan said.

"Aye-aye," Bishop nodded. Mitsu's face soon appeared on the small communicator screen, looking at Alan shrewdly.

"_Looks like we got here just in time, Shipmaster Tyler,"_ he said. _"Are you all alright?"_

"We're fine," Alan replied. "Now I want you to cease fire. I'm going to open a channel to that ship."

"_Why?"_ Mitsu asked.

"I've got a proposal for them," Alan replied. Mitsu looked unsure, but in the end he nodded. Outside the _Holy Justice_'s cannons stopped firing, leaving the _Foresight_ badly damaged but operational.

"Right," Alan said. "Now patch me through to the _Foresight_," Alan said. Bishop nodded, and seconds later a static-filled picture of the station's interior could be seen. Boscoe's face was on the screen, bruised and bloodied, but looking very angry.

"I told you my crew would get the word out," Alan said. "Now I want you to listen very carefully. Your ship has been incapacitated. My associates and I are prepared to offer you and your surviving crew transport off your ship and into our custody. We are even prepared to set you down on a neutral landing site and be on our way."

"You're offering them that, even after all they've done?" Alistair asked, looking dubious.

"It can't hurt to try," Alan said. "We're supposed to be the good guys, aren't we? I'd rather not let ourselves sink to the Alliance's level." Boscoe, however, clearly did not share Alan's view, for he continued to stare at them with a look of great defiance.

"_I will never surrender to the likes of you,"_ he growled. _"I would rather suffer a thousand deaths than be indebted to any who fly in that accursed ship. Mark my words; the Alliance will rise again, and they will hunt you down and destroy you all where you stand."_

"Alright, kill the line," Alan said to Bishop. "Get Mitsu back on," The pilot did so and opened a channel to the Holy Justice again.

"_What are we waiting for, Shipmaster?"_ Mitsu asked impatiently.

"They had their chance to surrender, and they blew it," Alan said coldly. "These guys make José look like the most tolerant person in the galaxy." José chose to ignore that jab; after everything they had just been through he wasn't in the mood for an argument.

"Give 'em Hell," Alan snarled.

"_With pleasure,"_ Mitsu rumbled. The _Holy Justice_ resumed firing on the _Foresight_, and the outcome was inevitable. Within seconds the station exploded in a gigantic fireball, its remains scattering themselves to the stars. Alan felt bad that the rest of the crew had to die, but Boscoe had made their choice for them.

"Captain," Bishop said, "I'm detecting several smaller signals that got away from the _Foresight_ before she exploded. They must be escape pods, though not many of the crew managed to make it out."

"Let them go," Alan said. "Maybe they'll be a bit wiser for their trouble."

"_It looks like we're at war with a whole new batch of humans, Tyler,"_ Mitsu said, sounding almost glad of the fact.

"That won't be necessary," Alan replied shortly. "These ones aren't worth the bother. Let's just finish our survey and go home."

"What about our prisoners?" Rachel asked.

"Come again?" Alan asked, rather surprised.

"José managed to catch two of the soldiers that came on board," Rachel said. "We've got them locked up in the passenger cabins."

"I see," Alan said, scratching his chin. "We'll try to coax the location of the Alliance's home-planet out of them; that'll be one less planet to worry about surveying, anyway. Then we'll drop them off on some anonymous dirt-ball with a beacon and some supplies. The Alliance can have 'em back."

"_They're your prisoners, Tyler, so it's your call," _Mitsu said. _"If you come on over, I'll let you borrow some of my warriors as security."_

"You got it," Alan said. "We'll be right over."

"_See you soon,"_ Mitsu said, then he started to chuckle. _"This survey took an interesting turn, didn't it?"_

0

Moments later, the _Serenity_ and the _Holy Justice_ parted ways once again to continue their mission. The _Serenity_ now had a compliment of Mitsu's Special Operations warriors on board, who were in the process of interrogating the Alliance prisoners. José had objected at first, saying that humans needed to deal with their own prisoners on their own terms, but he had been sorely outvoted.

Rachel spent her time in her usual haunt of the engine room. She preferred to be here beside machines; there were times when she tired of the company of others. Machines were not complicated, after all; they couldn't decide to suddenly turn on each other, or subject each other to horrible experiments like what had happened to her Auntie River. The sight of her aunt's panicked, blood-stained face on that screen was one that she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life. She was so lost in thought that she jumped at the sound of someone stepping into the engine room.

"You alright?" Alan asked, leaning in the doorway.

"Yeah..." Rachel said, in a very unconvincing tone.

"No, you're not," Alan said, sympathetically. "I've always got an open ear, Rachel."

The engineer turned to look at him. Amidst the dirt on her face from where she had been fixing the fusion drive, there were tears on her cheeks.

"I can't believe what they did to her..." she said quietly. "I'm glad you're the Captain and not me. If it had been me, I wouldn't have even let them surrender; I would have blown the bastards away." She looked away, as if ashamed for saying such a thing.

"I was sorely tempted," Alan muttered.

"Why didn't they tell me, though?" Rachel asked indignantly. "Both my parents never said anything about this to me! They had to have known! Why would they keep me in the dark? Did they think I couldn't handle it? I just don't get it..." She sniffed, trying to stifle a strong urge to weep. Alan knew that he would be feeling the same; it was his own hatred of secrets that had led him to meet Kiryuu Knight for the first time and set his life on a course which he could not possibly have anticipated.

"I won't pretend that I know anything on that particular topic," Alan said calmly. "I'm not going to say they had your best interests at heart or anything like that. I'm not in the habit of guessing what goes through people's minds. All I'm interested in right now is you keeping those engines running and helping us find the missing President. Can I rely on you for that?"

Rachel slowly turned to face Alan, trying to put on a brave face. She knew that the Captain was right; she couldn't let herself go to pieces right now. She had a job to do, and she would see it through to the end.

"Aye-aye, sir," she said slowly.

"Oh, by the way," Alan said. He pulled a data disk out of his pocket and tossed it to her. "That has all of the information we took from the facility. Everything's on there. I figure you have the most right of all of us to decide what's to be done with it."

Rachel looked at the disk uncertainly. She put it into a pocket on her boiler suit, shaking her head slightly. She had no idea what to do with the disk; she didn't know whether to destroy it or confront her parents about it at a later date. In the end, she settled on the idea of making a decision when the mission was over; there seemed to be little sense in fretting about it now. She sighed, looking rather forlorn as she thought back to her family; this whole expedition had made her rather homesick.

"Come on, chin up," Alan said. "Someone on this crew has to be the optimistic one."

As Alan departed from the engine room and back to the bridge, Rachel couldn't help smiling.

**THE END**


End file.
